


Cocktail

by mukur0



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, FTM, M/M, Realistic Porn Filming, Trans Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 00:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20380633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukur0/pseuds/mukur0
Summary: As a grad student at Stanford Law, Sam has moved into a very particular side job--that is, filming porn. Despite the fact that luck has never been on his side, he's hit jackpot with a safe, humane studio and a director/occasional costar that might just be the love (and bane) of his life. When Gabriel flies them to the Bahamas with a cameraman and calls it a business venture he can't help but feel guilty for the lavish treatment, but hey, when in Kokomo...





	Cocktail

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a pretty sprawling AU I've been working on for like six? eight? months now. It's mostly pointless except to point out that the porn industry isn't nearly as rainbows and good sex as people write it to be, but without wallowing in exploitative stories and gross stuff. Basic bg: Sam got lucky and found a studio that wasn't completely shit but he still gets to see some of the damage through other actors who have pasts in other parts of the industry. His porn name is Sam Wesson. Gabriel owns the studio and is super strict about actors' rights and wellbeings but also a son of a bitch. You can guess his porn name! Also, Sam has a tongue stud for shoots. In school or elsewhere it's a clear stealth plug. 
> 
> Anyways, it's absolutely perfect for SamGabe CC Round 4--my prompt was Kokomo by The Beach Boys.

“Are you honestly going to bill all this as a business expense?”

Across the room, through the open door, Gabriel preened in the mirror of a bathroom as large as Sam’s apartment. He dabbed a touch of cologne on his pulse points and turned a particularly smug grin to meet Sam’s sceptical frown. “I mean, we _ are _ here for work. We’re just living it up while we have the chance!”

Something about that made it sound like this very fancy cottage wasn’t the only “living it up” he intended to do. Sam rubbed his temple, but he couldn’t stop the fond smile from creeping onto his lips. “But don’t you think this is a little much, Gabe? The _ Four Seasons?_” he chuckled, unable to resist a bounce on the end of a very soft bed. He hadn’t decided whether to panic or kiss him and the two options continued to twist him into a tug-of-war of extremes—when Gabriel said it was a flight to the Bahamas for a shoot, he knew it would be wild, but _ this… _ “Even the air smells expensive. Just how much did you spend on all this?”

Done primping, Gabe gave a twirl and leaned his shoulder very comfortably against the doorframe. He moved like he was meant to be here, and he probably was. “One,” he said, raising a finger, “it’s not exactly easy to find a villa with an enclosed courtyard around here, and it’s not like we can film a porno out on a balcony. Two…”

Sam followed his line of sight to the plunge pool outside, nestled safely away from prying eyes behind an ivy-covered wall. It was kind of romantic, looking around at it all. The whole trip was, really, even if the bedroom was a little cramped because Gabriel had apparently insisted on a king bed instead of the queen that usually came with the room (and that was a blessing, because there was no fucking way they could share a queen). 

“Two?” he echoed.

“I wanted to.”

With a skill that only came from experience Gabriel avoided the sarcastic look shot his way, dancing around the edge of a dresser to slide his arms sinuously around his partner’s neck. “Don’t brood so much, baby,” he purred against Sam’s scruffy cheek, happily scratching his lips across it. “You’ve never had to worry about my budgeting before, and you don’t have to now.”

Silence reigned for a long moment. Heat rose to his face, especially stark wherever affection was pressed into his skin, and he dipped his head and glanced away from the way that Gabriel pulled back and looked shrewdly at him. 

“It’s not about the expensing, is it,” he exhaled. There wasn’t no question there, not in the way that he rubbed the back of his neck and tossed a rueful stare at the ceiling. 

Sam’s bottom lip was soft under his teeth. “We both know you didn’t do this just for a video, Gabe. And I—you know, I appreciate it, you know I do, but this is...so _ much.” _

The answering sigh was aggrieved, harsh in the way it punched out of Gabriel’s chest. His shoulders drooped for a second, only to rise again, his arms spread in a flourish of a shrug, hands moving with his mouth like he was painting the words as he sang them. Even his hips swayed. “So maybe I added a little luxury just for the two of us. Think about it, Sam—you, me, making sweet love to the sounds of the water. Strawberry champagne and a poolside and nobody around to see but us. Baby, we can kiss on the beach and swim that big blue ocean and listen to _ Kokomo.” _

(What the hell was _ Kokomo? _He’d Google it later.)

He folded his hands between his knees, eyes on the private pool. So maybe he didn’t like being so spoiled, having things handed to him on a silver platter, the big, flamboyant way that Gabriel tried to do things for him. And Gabriel had been pretty good about it—he didn’t push, he didn’t keep trying to make overtures, he gave Sam his dignity as a grad student who didn’t want to be a kept boy. 

This was a sweet gesture. It was a gift. And it might be rich for his blood, but Gabriel was clearly ecstatic for a weekend in the Bahamas with him, and it would take a real asshole to deny him the pleasure.

“Okay,” he said. He looked back into hopeful eyes and offered a tentative smile. “That intimidating accountant is going to have your head.”

Gabriel scoffed. “What, Cas? He adds the numbers, he doesn’t spend ‘em.”

Right. Like he hadn’t heard the man scolding Gabriel for the rental of that Maserati that had also been “for a shoot.” Sam shook his head, chuckling. Fine. “You know, I’ve always wanted to go to the beach.”

If they’d brought anyone else to be the cameraman, privacy might have been an issue. Balthazar, however, was more than happy to run around the islands getting into everything he could, probably drinking enough liquor to bring down an elephant, and only show up fashionably late for their scheduled shoot. When he moved just right and his shirt rose to show an inch of skin, there were hickies on his hips. Neither of them asked for any details, although Gabe smirked his most impish grin and told him he’d have to spill when they were back in California. 

They’d only been in the Bahamas for less than a day, but three separate surfaces of the villa had been christened. Initially Sam had been hesitant, worried about the quality of the cumshot by the time they got to filming, but Gabriel laughed away his concern and proceeded to fuck him till he couldn’t remember what he’d been so caught up about in the first place. Pornstars didn’t have sex behind closed doors the way they did in front of a camera, and that was a blessing and a half because he didn’t think he could arch his back like that as often as he and Gabriel fell into bed (or chair, or table, or wall...). 

Something he’d learned the second he’d entered the business was that all the weird, impersonal fucking onscreen was just as weird and impersonal in person. Cameras meant they had to pose and make angles and meet weird positions; they had to breathe right, to last until the director called it, and then they had to _ orgasm _ on command. Gabriel had to stay hard for sometimes hours at a time, and for some videos he had to abstain for days so the cumshot was thick and white and showed up onscreen. 

And most of all, the most backwards part of the entire thing, was that they _ couldn’t touch too much. _Hands, sure—they were encouraged to use their hands, as long as their arms and shoulders didn’t obscure the shot. Kissing? Kissing was a rare treat during performances, and otherwise almost all their contact involved mouths and genitals. Porn was shot for fucking, not for making love, Gabriel had shrugged early on. The really soft shots they got to do were rare treats for the niche audiences who were interested.

What all of that added up to was a weird, convoluted relationship with sex between them. Something something, the reason pornstars don’t date pornstars, yada yada. Whatever. They could treasure their times together in private.

(At least they worked in Gabriel’s studio. He’d heard all the horror stories before he was hired, the directors that ordered Viagra overdoses and labia inflations, and he continued to hear whispers of them from coworkers who hadn’t always worked with Gabriel.)

Then was the bonus of dating the director/occasional costar: he got to use his saddest eyes and beg off of some of his least favourite positions, no matter how much the camera liked them. 

“Come on, babe, it’ll look _ so _ good,” said boss whined. “What’s a couple of bruises for art?”

With his most disgruntled sigh Sam looked back at the pool’s stairs and considered logistics. “I’d rather not bruise my kidneys, thanks,” he finally answered. “I can’t sit on the third stair and lean back like that. I’ll lean back from the first stair while you eat me out, and instead of fucking on the stairs let’s do it standing up. With the water it’ll be easier for you to lift me.”

Gabriel’s lips turned into a pout at the first few words, only to light up at the epiphany. “Shit! You’re right! Get in and let’s see if that’s doable.” 

Scoffing a laugh, he tucked thumbs into his swim trunks and let them fall before he stepped down into the pool. The shorts needed to stay dry until they began shooting, but skin was easy enough to towel off before the camera started rolling. Gabriel followed quickly, just as naked, and with a surprisingly little maneuvering had Sam’s legs around his waist. “Bal, how’s it lookin’?” he called, firmly supporting Sam around the hips with one arm and the other with a generous handful of ass. Sam chuckled quietly and smacked the side of his head.

“Beautiful,” the cameraman responded, accent heavy and eyes glued to the video screen. “Move a little, see how well I can catch it. The water ripples up the picture a bit, makes for some visual interest.”

“Yeah, well, remember this is porn, not a visual arts project,” Gabriel snickered back, testing his grip. “Hold onto my shoulders, baby, I’m gonna see what kind of moves we’ve got here.” With Sam braced he shifted his arms, testing the roll of his hips and finally a bouncing motion for both of them. With what looked like some effort he was able to lift Sam a few inches and lower him back down, and with help from Sam’s arms it seemed a sustainable rhythm. “Jackpot!”

Balthazar fiddled with his camera and nodded, still not looking up. “Remember to stay in the middle of the pool for that part or the walls make it harder to catch. Have you settled on the first step for part two, darl?”

After a shared glance at Sam, double checking for final agreement, Gabriel grinned and motioned him out of the pool. “Ye-p! We all set?”

Quickly they were both dry and in swim shorts again, Balthazar taking the opportunity to grab a daiquiri that smelled like it was half rum out of the cottage fridge. Sam got comfortable on a beach chair beside the pool, and with a grin Gabriel got out of frame and called _ action! _

The camera’s lens zoomed as Balthazar moved sinuously around him, catching interesting angles that Gabriel indicated silently while Sam did his best to look like he was only casually arching his back, shifting his hips, running a hand down his chest...and never, ever making eye contact with the camera. This was probably Sam’s least favourite part of filming, all other discomforts set aside, but oh, it was nice to see the director lick his lips and look excited.

“Cut! Okay, wide frame while I come in, then zoom in on both of us—you know the drill, Balty.”

“I would hope so,” he purred, moving the tripod back while Gabriel set a tray of cocktails on his arm. “It’s only been, what, a decade?”

“Annnnd go!”

Sam looked his most adoring as Gabriel entered frame and handed him what looked like a margarita (bless him, he knew not to give Sam one of those sugary nightmares) and took a pina colada for himself. Gabriel pulled a nearby beach chair up against his and settled down, more intent on Sam’s lips than his drink, and that would have been wonderful if Sam didn’t have to crane his neck awkwardly to properly show the camera. Gabriel had to be pushing the limits of his spine.

He tasted like the sangria he’d been drinking earlier. Out of the corner of his eye Sam noticed Balthazar extending the microphone to catch their kisses, which had sent him into hysterical laughter the first few times but now only encouraged him to close his eyes and nibble Gabriel’s bottom lip. 

Just as he found a way to keep his shoulders from cramping and got into the rhythm, Gabriel broke the kiss and purred a _ cut! _ He had a wicked grin but couldn’t hide the way his neck cracked when he stood up. “Drink your martini, Sam, because I think we’re gonna be in the pool for a loooong time.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the eyebrow waggle but smiled into his cup. Balthazar was quick to snatch the last half of both their cocktails, not that anyone was surprised, and in short order the two of them sat comfortably on the edge of the pool with their feet on the stairs, hips and shoulders touching. 

Camera rolling again, their lips met again, this time more heated. Gabriel licked into his mouth, earning a pleasant sigh, leaning on one hand so the other was free to roam Sam’s chest. He leaned into his touch, careful to keep his face aligned for the shot, exaggerating the sound of their kisses. The quirk of his lips and the extra suck it took to make the loud _ smooch _ was as ridiculous as always, but somehow when Gabriel did it, pinching a nipple in his fingers and kissing down Sam’s throat, it made his toes curl under the surface of the water.

Sometimes when a video went out with Gabriel as an actor, someone would comment on his eyes. Apparently they were pretty frequently complimented, and Sam could see why—could stare into them for hours, seemed like—but they weren’t his favourite part of Gabriel by far. That honour went to his _ hands_, big, thick palms and sturdy fingers that could do things he hadn’t thought possible. He didn’t need long fingers when he could play them like an instrument all their own. 

He didn’t moan on purpose, surprised when it slipped out at the way Gabriel’s palm smoothed across his stomach and slid over his trunks. And Gabriel knew that full well by the way his eyes sparkled, kiss broken so he could hold—no, demand—eye contact as he slid his hand beneath the waistband of the shorts and played his fingers in places that had no right to be as wet as they were. Sam bit his lip, shivering (for the camera, he told himself), squirming the longer he went on teasing. Gabriel pecked his lips and shifted for the next part.

Talk about awkward positions. He ended up on the first step down, immersed only inches and leaning back across the lip of the pool with Gabriel kneeling over his shoulders. Balthazar adjusted the camera in time for Sam to pull Gabriel’s swim trunks down his hips, cock bobbing onto his waiting tongue. Even blowjobs were weird to perform, took special angles and long drags and lots of spit, but they had, ahem, practised till he had the techniques mastered.

With his hair lovingly held back by a gentle hand, he kept his eyes up on Gabriel’s and licked a long stripe from the swell of his balls to the edge of his frenulum, smirked at the gasp he earned with a twirl of his tongue stud. Gabriel was beautiful from here, brown hair curling down from his navel, a brush of it across his chest; he looked solid, wide shoulders and lithe body, the arms of a man as likely to pick up a guitar as a wrench, the smooth muscles made for agility and stamina more than brute strength. 

He took the rest of Gabriel’s cock down his throat, lips pressed to his groin, head tilted back to look for approval. Gabriel pet his hair with both hands, breathing ragged with arousal. “There you go, baby,” he cooed, hoarse. “Oh, Sam, sweetheart.”

For several seconds he waited there, swallowing around Gabriel, ignoring the way his eyes watered and a tear spilled when he gagged and pulled back with a gasp. He didn’t bother to recover, lips stretched wide, eager for the sweet salt of precome on his tongue, the weight of Gabriel in his mouth. He hadn’t even been a fan of giving blowjobs until he was hired but the way that Gabe looked so adoringly down at him made breathing a much lower priority.

Saliva ran down his chin, wiped across a cheek as he licked little stripes up the side and sucked the head back into his mouth, lips open so the camera could catch the way his tongue made circles around it. Gabriel groaned out a needy sound but leaned away, holding Sam’s head back so he couldn’t follow. There was a brief moment of confusion, but Gabriel was backing into the pool and Sam remembered to spread his legs and bite his lips at the hungry way his lover (co-actor, director) was looking at him. 

Bent over him, Gabriel slid his swim trunks off, helped him settle back down onto the ledge. His fingers played over Sam, brushing fingertips over his lips just an inch over the water’s surface, a thumb over the tip of his very erect clit so that he bit back a keen. 

One finger divided his folds, pressed slowly up the pink flesh of his cunt, a second finger spreading him wide for the camera. Sam leaned his head back, shuddering hard, battling back the embarrassment that always came with the knowledge that Balthazar was zooming the lens in for a good shot between his legs, catching every proof of how excited he was. Gabriel evidently appreciated it because his eyes glittered darkly as he leaned down and began pressing kisses to his clit.

Fuck fingers, how did Sam ever forget his _ tongue? _ He leaned back hard on his elbows, chewing his bottom lip at the little shocks of sensation that arced their way up his body with every fucking touch of Gabriel’s tongue. His lips were nimble, dragging his nerves to life, waking parts of his body he hadn’t realised were asleep. His thighs shook at the way stubble dragged across their sensitive insides, his hips quivered on the pool’s edge as Gabriel lapped over his skin and fastened his lips around Sam’s clit and sucked hard. 

His back bowed so hard he could have fallen into the pool. Gabriel held him in place by the hips, purring at Sam’s yowl, bobbing his head to stroke the length of him with his lips. Out of sight of the camera his tongue danced at the tip, drawing whimpers every few drags, Sam’s hand pulling at his hair. Gabriel lifted his hips enough to shift them into a new angle for the camera, but he hardly noticed with the way Gabriel’s mouth never paused, setting his skin on fire.

“G—_Loki,” _ he corrected, trying his best to keep his voice low despite the way it broke, “Loki, Loki, oh, God, please.”

Gabriel hummed loud against his cunt, sending another wave up his spine. His chin glistened, with pool water or Sam’s slick he wasn’t sure, when he lurched up and stole Sam’s lips again. Surprised, Sam moaned into his mouth, chasing the taste of himself and chlorine, a hand seeking out Gabriel’s cock to rub as they kissed and earning a groan in return.

Tugging, Gabriel backed further down the steps, pulling Sam by his hand to the right depth to pull him tightly against him and let his hands wander. Trusting him to have the positions figured out, Sam leaned into him, snickering at the way he towered over Gabriel even with his knees strategically bent underwater. 

“Ready, baby?” Gabriel breathed. He didn’t even finish before Sam was nodding his enthusiasm, arms wrapped around Gabriel’s shoulders, and suddenly he was swept up off his feet and legs pulled around Gabriel’s waist. Sam gasped and buried his face in the side of Gabriel’s neck, huffing hoarse breaths at the way his cock rubbed hard against him.

(Hands, tongue—maybe this was his favourite part. Gabriel had a gorgeous cock just big enough to enclose in Sam’s fist, the perfect girth to drag against his insides, head just the right shape to push every one of his buttons and light him up till he shook apart into pieces held together only by Gabriel’s arms.)

They didn’t have the leverage to guide him in slowly, but the thought counted anyway. Sam gasped as they slid into place, fingers curling into Gabriel’s shoulderblades. “Shhh,” Gabriel whispered, thumbs rubbing circles on his skin where he held him, “I gotcha, shhh, baby.” 

He had to back off and open them both up for the camera, but he didn’t want to stop breathing in _ Gabriel._ Gabriel shifted his hips and wound them in a circle, earning another moan, found his bearings and lifted Sam into the perfect spot for slow thrusts, and as he found his rhythm Sam met him in the middle, lifting himself with his thighs. 

“You okay, Sam?” he whispered into his ear, hidden behind his hair. “Is this okay?”

He shivered. “Loki,” he whined, and finally he forced himself to arch for the camera, shuddering, thighs tight with the strain. “Oh, fuck, Loki.”

Gabriel’s grin made it absolutely worth it, every bruise he was going to have from leaning against the lip of the pool and all the ways his thighs would ache tomorrow. He was so fucking handsome with his eyes closed and his lips parted, hair slicked back damply, not a sign of discomfort on his face no matter how his arms had to be cramping and Sam could feel how hard he had to work to move his hips the right way.

There was no way either of them could come like this. Sam almost laughed, suddenly feeling ridiculous, biting his lip at another thrust that made him moan. Gabriel leaned forward, going for another kiss, and just as he opened his eyes Balthazar called a warning and they both lost their balance, tumbling into the water with a splash.

Nobody tried to stop it this time. Sam came up for air with guffaws, Balthazar already cackling at them as he wiped pool water off his lens, and Gabriel took the time to brush his hair back off his face with the expression of a very annoyed cat...only to break out into gasping, choking laughs, his face in his hands. 

“I think maybe that one wasn’t the best idea,” Sam snickered. “I uh...are you okay, babe?”

“What? Yeah, I mean, it’s _ water—_oh, _ oh, _ yeah, uh—no sprained, broken, or otherwise injured dicks here. Uh, are you—?”

He had to raise his voice over Balthazar’s renewed howling, but he waved away the concern. “Yeah, uh, no damage that I know of. My thighs hurt so much I don’t think I’d even notice. Can we finish with something easy? Please?”

For a moment Gabriel had the grace to look guilty, but a reassuring peck on the lips had him grinning and looking around the courtyard for a better spot to finish the take, which in itself was impressive because Sam wasn’t sure he knew anyone else who could _ still _ be hard. As if Gabriel caught the thought, he used a hand to stroke himself and maintain his erection while he thought. “If your legs hurt it’s still easier in the water. You wanna bend over the steps for me?”

Balthazar was already repositioning the camera. Sam huffed out a breath but nodded, taking the opportunity to test a couple of ledges and decide which one to lean on before he bent over and stretched his spine into the best feline approximation he could, hips popped and legs spread. Gabriel smacked his ass once, a fond approval, and guided himself back in.

“Roll it. Start up top and angle down, ‘kay, Bal?”

“Yes, yes, order me around like the bell b—this camera is _ not _ waterproof!” he yelped, trying to shield it from a splash. “Fine! Ready!”

It was enough of an onslaught for Gabriel to suddenly begin thrusting, drawing back till the rim of his head tugged at Sam’s clenching flesh and snapping forward hard enough to push Sam’s face into the poolside, so his arm reaching around Sam’s hip and rubbing flat fingers against his clit sent him well past stimulation and into overwhelmed. He keened loud, scrabbling for purchase, and braced himself for the ride. A strong hand caught his shoulder to hold him still, leaving him caught between relief and frustration.

“That good, baby?” Gabriel asked, but he was grinning over Sam’s shoulder, so fucking _ smug, _ he knew exactly what he was doing, needed that smirk wiped right off his face—

“Y-yes,” he stammered, screwing his eyes shut, struggling for breath between the air punched out of him with each slam of their hips, every whine he couldn’t keep quiet, the deep sounds from deep in his chest he couldn’t even bother to try. Gabriel’s hand retreated to hold him by the waist and was immediately replaced by Sam’s, rubbing stuttering circles between his legs, fingertips occasionally brushing against Gabriel’s cock while it fucked into him. “Oh, God, Loki, _ fuck.” _

“Harder? Is that what you just said?” he grinned. The fucker was barely out of breath, even as he gave a particularly hard snap that made Sam’s skin sting where they’d slapped together. “Or maybe...you like it when I do this?” 

He paused his thrusts, rolling his hips side to side and forcing Sam’s spine into an even higher curve. A slow drag had him pressing a spot that made Sam’s eyelids flutter and the air rush out of him in a gasp. 

Maybe there was a benefit in dating another pornstar, after all—he knew all the good spots to make the weird positions worth it.

Sam barely caught the finger sign their cameraman threw out. Three minutes. They’d hit Gabriel’s film length goal in three minutes. He bit back a sob, clawing the lip of the pool with his free hand till he felt a nail break. He was going to fucking murder his boss for teasing him like this.

Weight settled over his back, kisses pressed softly into his shoulder on top of existing hickies he was glad they hadn’t had to cover. Gabriel lapped at his neck, soothed places that had gone bright red with exertion, nuzzled his nose into the center of Sam’s back while he found a gentler pace that sent Sam spiralling fast into a happy daze of purrs and moans. 

He barely had to help as he was flipped onto his back on the top stair again, this time with knees hooked over Gabriel’s elbows, and fucked as luxuriously as was appropriate for a private cottage at the _ Four Seasons_. Sam’s fingers were lazy while he rubbed himself, barely having to do a thing to propel him higher with Gabriel, already thrilled with the constant burn of pleasure growing in his pelvis. Finally he laid his arms back, happy with nothing but Gabriel rocking into him and the sight of him coming undone over him.

Gabriel made eye contact with Balthazar, got a motion, and turned a breathless smirk down to Sam. His dimples were showing. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered, deliciously husky. “Come on. I know you can come on my cock, Sam.”

His legs tightened over Gabriel’s elbows. He could. He was going to. He was so close, oh fuck, he was going to shatter, he was made of electricity and heat and 

With a cry he shuddered, arching painfully, keening his way through an orgasm that had every muscle clenching down, that made Gabriel gasp and fuck him harder, that worked its way from his abdomen up his throat and exhaled out his moan and all the tension released all at once so he collapsed back, heaving gasping breaths and every limb shaking. 

Gabriel was close, he could tell by the sound of his breaths, probably dragged over the edge by Sam’s spasms inside, and he just barely managed to lift his head and open his mouth in invitation, dazedly watching as Gabriel pulled out and stripped his cock with something akin to desperation. He barely looked up when Gabriel came hard onto his face, a rope of cum rolling its way down the side of his nose as more followed close behind. A bead landed on his tongue and Sam licked his lips, waiting till Gabriel was done before he took his cock in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and gently drawing a last few drops out while Gabriel shuddered.

As if all his strength had gone with it, he half collapsed onto the stairs beside Sam, clumsily seeking an open-mouthed kiss that was as much teeth bumping as lips. There was the distinct sound of the camera being turned off and packed up but they didn’t bother to look, taking their time to catch their breaths out of the other’s mouths, heart rate gradually slowing to something comfortable.

“Alright, this is disgusting,” Balthazar snarked. “My job is sex, not this weird affection thing you two have going on. Can I go find another bar, or…?”

Gabriel must have made some sort of gesture because he grumbled and could be heard taking the camera inside. Now that Sam wasn’t oxygen deprived, the parts of him above the water were feeling a little chilled, and if he sank into the warm pool he was likely to fall asleep in it. Surely noting the same things, Gabriel gave him a firmer kiss and shifted to sit up.

Sam had to try twice to say something once he was sitting up and climbing out of the pool. The first time came out as a broken huff, the second so hoarse it could barely be made out. Finally he found his voice, now almost on his feet. “Wow.”

It seemed like Gabriel would have laughed if he weren’t having the same problem. He cleared his throat, stretched (his back popped twice, both like gunshots), and reached for their towels. “You still have my jizz on your face.”

He only earned a derogatory look, but Sam accepted the towel and wiped his face off anyway as he made a very slow way into the cottage. They’d need showers. Before nap? After nap. His hips were made of jelly. 

No, wait. They needed food. They hadn’t eaten before the shot and his stomach reminded him all of a sudden that it felt the need to consume itself from the inside. Okay. Food. Showers...naps...something...

“If you make lunch I’ll go make us more cocktails. I bet Balthazar drank them all.”

Gabriel scoffed but was already headed to the kitchen. Evidently he had the same idea. “It’s fine, we have the _ real _ thing.”

For a long moment Sam tried to get the punchline, really he did. Finally he looked over his shoulder from where he was pulling liquors out of the cabinet and gave Gabriel what he was waiting for, grinning there like a kid with a knock-knock joke. “And that would be...?”

Gabriel spread his arms wide to indicate the both of them. “I got the cock, you got the tail!”

He didn’t make them lunch that day. 


End file.
